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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372824">Attack of the Kraken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbrith/pseuds/Silbrith'>Silbrith</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Caffrey Conversation [47]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>White Collar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure, Gen, Pre-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbrith/pseuds/Silbrith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>April Fools' Day is just around the corner, but ancient sea monsters are no laughing matter. March 2006. Travel: Cambridge, Massachusetts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Caffrey Conversation [47]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/65698</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Depth Charge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>White Collar. Friday, March 24, 2006. </strong>
</p><p>"I wish I could go along on your road trip." Sara's sigh was clearly audible through the cell phone.</p><p>Neal had appropriated an unoccupied interrogation room to call her over his lunch hour. In London, the workday was over and Sara was at her flat. Normally, he would have called her on Saturday, but this weekend he'd be at Aidan's former stomping grounds. Their fencing team captain had gotten his bachelor's degree at MIT. On Saturday, Neal and his fellow teammates would be in Cambridge for a match with the MIT alumni fencing club. Failure, as Aidan repeatedly reminded them, was not an option.</p><p>"I do too," Neal said. "I'll be the odd man out in the group. Aidan will have Keiko. Richard will have Travis."</p><p>"You could borrow Henry's puppy Splash for company," Sara suggested wickedly. "Aidan's renting a van. There will be plenty of room."</p><p>"Not exactly the roommate I'd like to have."</p><p>"At least you'll be with friends. I'm off to Yorkshire on a case and will be working solo. Just me and my disguises."</p><p>"I'll visit you in your dreams," Neal promised. "And they'll be much steamier than what we could enjoy in Boston. There's a convention in town and most rooms were already booked by the time we tried to get reservations. Aidan insisted on staying close to the MIT campus and Keiko discovered a charming boutique hotel on Kendall Square, but the only vacancy was a one-bedroom suite. Aidan and Keiko will have the bedroom. Richard and Travis get the sofa bed in the living room."</p><p>"Where will you sleep?"</p><p>Neal restricted the volume of his groan. "A rollaway bed. I fell on the sword for the team."</p><p>Sara chuckled. "How long will you have to endure the torture?"</p><p>"Two nights. We'll drive up this evening after work. The meet takes place on Saturday morning. Aidan wants to give us a tour of his alma mater afterward, and Richard discovered there's an exhibition at Harvard he wants to attend."</p><p>"What's the subject? No, don't tell me. Let me guess. Knowing Richard's twin loves for horror and science-fiction, I'd assume it was science fiction if it were at MIT, but since it's Harvard, that leaves horror. Am I right? Gruesome, gothic tales of horror?"</p><p>"You're close, but you need to go further back in time. The Renaissance, to be precise."</p><p>"Really?" Her shocked tone indicated she didn't expect to be right.</p><p>"The Houghton Library has mounted an exhibit of Renaissance maps containing sea monsters. The prize draw is a sixteenth-century copy of the <em>Carta Marina</em>." It was the best known of the ancient maps containing the mythical creatures. The Swedish artist had depicted the seas surrounding Scandinavia alive with fanciful and bizarre animals. If Peter got a look at it, it might make him lose some of his fondness for Vikings.</p><p>"And you're going to let Richard attend?" Sara asked. "Doesn't he still help the Arkham Round Table writing group by designing creatures for their stories?"</p><p>"I figure it's a lost cause. Richard's already familiar with the map, and sea monsters are a natural for Arkham Files. After all, the mighty Cthulhu which inspired the Cthulhu Mythos mythology is supposedly imprisoned in the underwater city of R'lyeh."</p><p>"I've read descriptions of him," Sara said. "Part octopus, part dragon, and part human as I recall. Has Richard attempted to draw him?"</p><p>"Not yet, but I assume he will shortly since Mozzie has dubbed Rolf's hypothetical partner Cthulhu." Rolf Mansfeld, a cybercriminal with an obsession for H.P. Lovecraft, was currently held in an upstate New York prison. His trial had concluded earlier in March. Agent Tricia Wiese continued to serve as profiler for both Rolf and his brother Klaus. She was concerned that Rolf had a partner who was somehow able to communicate with him in prison. The focus of the Arkham Files stories had shifted toward provoking friction between the two.</p><p>"You're right that any effort to shield sea monsters from the Arkham Round Table is doomed for failure," Sara agreed. "I read that the upcoming <em>Pirates of the Caribbean</em> movie, <em>Dead Man's Chest,</em> features a kraken. The movie's coming out in late June. Tentacle monsters will be all the rage."</p><p>Normally Neal loved pirate movies, but this was one he'd skip. Despite his best efforts, he was still squeamish about octopuses. Could he call it an occupational hazard from starring in stories about the Cthulhu Mythos? If Mozzie were listening in, he'd insist on Neal filing for workers' compensation.</p><p>"It's just as well Peter's not going along," Sara said, blissfully unaware of the squid gurgling in Neal's stomach. "He'd probably cite the trip as yet one more example of your propensity to surround yourself with monsters on road trips."</p><p>"And I'll do my best to keep them all at bay. The following weekend Peter, El, and I will be at their cabin in the Catskills. Unless Bigfoot comes knocking, we should be safe."</p><p>"Hmm. New York Bigfoot sightings ..." Neal heard a quick tapping of keys. "You can rest easy. There have been no recent sightings on the internet, and you know that if Bigfoot were around, someone would have reported it. I'm sure all Peter is thinking about is your upcoming stargazing marathon."</p><p>"He's been planning it since October." Peter used to spend Halloween stargazing at the family cabin in the Catskills. Neal had joined the Burkes for the event two years ago. On that occasion, they'd inadvertently crashed the romantic weekend plans of Peter's brother Joe who proposed to Noelle just before they arrived. Peter decided to abandon the Halloween stargazing tradition, thus letting the couple return to the cabin for a nostalgic weekend. In its place, Peter would conduct a spring Messier Marathon where the goal would be to find all 110 deep-sky objects listed in the Messier catalog in one night.</p><p>"It's taken on an additional competitive edge," Neal said. "When Travis heard about our plans, he coaxed Richard into doing something similar. To make it fair, they're staying in the same region. They'll stargaze from the observatory at Jenny Jump State Park along with the local astronomy club."</p><p>"Competing teams?" Sara laughed. "I wish I could join you, but you wouldn't want me. I know nothing about stargazing."</p><p>"A couple of years ago, I didn't either. Peter would be delighted to hold a boot camp for you. He and Travis are the experts. Richard, El, and I will provide comic relief."</p><p>"The marathon's over April Fools' Day," she pointed out. "Do I detect an ulterior motive? Like staying far away from any revenge prank by Henry?"</p><p>Neal grinned. "It was an unexpected bonus." Last year he and Henry had engaged in protracted schemes only to be outmaneuvered by Noelle and June. Sara wasn't in New York at the time and hadn't heard the full story. As he explained what had taken place, the distance separating them melted away for a few short minutes. They'd continue to be restricted to phone calls until one of them could finagle another trip.</p><p>Living in the same city was still a distant dream. Sara's application for a transfer to New York was on hold. Her boss had told her the earliest she could expect a change of assignment would be in the coming fall. The silver lining was that her caseload was allowing her to rack up frequent flyer mileage for future reunion trips.</p><p>After the call, Neal returned to his art niche in the tech lab. There he found Peter standing beside Travis at the worktable opposite Neal's computer. They appeared to be studying diagrams, making him wonder if Travis had invented a new gadget.</p><p>"What did I miss?" Neal asked, approaching them. He broke into a laugh when he saw what was on the table. "Star charts? During office hours?"</p><p>"Hey, it's still lunch hour," Peter retorted. "You were probably on the phone to Sara."</p><p>Neal shrugged acknowledgment. "I didn't think you two needed to study charts."</p><p>Travis frowned. "Scheduling is key. Some of the objects are only visible for brief periods of time."</p><p>"Then don't let me keep you from your strategizing." Neal slid into his chair to check his text messages. As he scrolled through the list, only one needed to be answered. "Guys, you're going to want to hear this."</p><p>"Is it more important than M74?" Peter challenged. "That galaxy can only be seen for a couple of minutes. Timing is a critical issue."</p><p>Neal raised an eyebrow. "How about <em>Cthulhu strikes again</em>?"</p><p>Peter exhaled slowly. "You heard something from Mozzie?"</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>"Did he provide any details?" Travis asked.</p><p>"No, but I'll call him."</p><p>"Put him on speaker," Peter ordered.</p><p>As a matter of principle, Mozzie abhorred speaker calls, but when confronted with the alternative of being infected by Bureau germs, he'd established greater tolerance. Besides, after the favor Neal had done, Mozzie owed him.</p><p>"What did you discover about Joseph Bassus?" Mozzie demanded.</p><p>"Nothing has surfaced since his murder in 1982," Neal said. Before Mozzie could ask for additional help, he added, "I'm in the lab with Peter and Travis. I'm putting you on speaker."</p><p>"Wait—"</p><p>Neal tapped the button before being dragged down the Bassus rabbit hole. "Why did you text that Cthulhu struck again?"</p><p>"And speak up," Peter rumbled. He was well acquainted with Mozzie's habit of dropping his voice to a barely audible whisper whenever he was on speaker.</p><p>"Oh, very well. I heard from a contact that there was a theft in Boston last night, and Neal, you're familiar with the item taken. It's the <em>Carta Marina</em> that up to last night was being displayed in Cambridge."</p><p>"That's an ancient map of sea monsters and the centerpiece of the exhibition at Harvard," Neal explained, primarily for Peter's benefit. Undoubtedly Richard had already told Travis about it.</p><p>"Was anything else stolen?" Travis asked.</p><p>"Not to my knowledge," Mozzie said.</p><p>"What leads you to think that Rolf's silent partner was involved?" Peter asked.</p><p>"Nothing definite," he admitted. "A faint stirring of the ether. It reminded me of when the Galileo manuscript was stolen from the American Museum of Natural History. We later learned that Azathoth was thumbing his nose at us. Is there something similar going on now, only this time it's Cthulhu and he's flicking one of his tentacles?"</p><p>Neal made a face, wishing Mozzie could see it. "Without any evidence to connect Rolf to the crime, can we hold off on calling the thief Cthulhu?"</p><p>"We're not completely without evidence," Mozzie protested. "In the apartment of the video game pirate who called himself Pod2 was a book on ancient sea maps. Rolf Mansfeld had a copy of the same book. I admit it's not much, but it's tantalizing. If you prefer, however, we could call the thief Kraken instead."</p><p>Was Kraken any better than Cthulhu? It was easier to pronounce. And much as Neal disliked the significance, Mozzie's intuition always deserved careful attention as long as he didn't take a left turn into one of his conspiracy scenarios.</p><p>The Boston office of the FBI was assisting in the investigation. Normally, White Collar wouldn't be involved in the case but the possible link to Rolf couldn't be ignored. Peter said he'd report it to Tricia as yet one more instance of that hypothetical silent partner.</p><p>The theft was also the subject of the afternoon briefing.</p><p>"The map is already on the dark web," Jones announced. "There's chatter both on the main forums and also on the Cube gaming forum. No one's claimed to have stolen it."</p><p>Diana raised an eyebrow. "Should we seize the moment, Boss? This is the sort of artwork Steinar Wolff would be interested in."</p><p>Peter frowned at the mention of his alias. The team had created it to usurp Rolf Mansfeld's profile on the dark web. "Even if I agreed, how would that solve the theft?"</p><p>"You could provoke the thief to post something online if you boasted about having stolen it," she asserted. "And if Rolf is somehow involved, it will goad him still further that you're using his ID."</p><p>"There's another way to play it," Jones said. "Steinar could make an offer to purchase the map. That could be even more effective. Rolf used his handle both to buy and sell art."</p><p>Neal liked Jones's idea and he could tell Peter was intrigued by it. If the thief took the bait, Travis was confident he'd be able to fake confirmation of the wire transfer.</p><p>"Our resident conspiracy theorist believes there may be a connection between the crime and Pod2," Peter said.</p><p>"On what grounds?" Jones challenged.</p><p>Diana's face brightened as she snapped her fingers. "Tentacles!"</p><p>Peter nodded gloomily. "Pod2 could refer to <em>cephalopod</em>. A book on ancient sea maps was in the hacker's apartment, and the same book was in Ydrus headquarters. Rolf's obsession with Lovecraft is roughly equal to Lovecraft's use of tentacle monsters. Are there any updates on the hacker?"</p><p>"He's currently awaiting trial," Travis said. "He's refused to divulge any information about the group, but we were able to trace some of his email correspondence to a server in China. That's of unknown significance." He turned to Neal. "Do octopuses figure in Chinese culture?"</p><p>Neal shook his head. "Not particularly. They're much more common in Japanese art."</p><p>"You've informed Tricia?" Jones asked.</p><p>Peter nodded. "There's most likely no link, but it's something to keep in the back of your minds."</p><p>Neal didn't blame Peter for being a little paranoid when it came to Rolf. Perhaps some of Mozzie was rubbing off on him but this wasn't something Neal would tease him about. He was much more interested in solving the case to prove that there was no connection.</p><p>In the end, Peter agreed to let them make the attempt. He also authorized Neal and Travis to meet with the local agents for a review of the theft.  One of the best parts as far as Neal was concerned was that he'd be able to call Saturday afternoon a workday since he and Travis would meet with local agents. He could bank that time for future use with Sara once classes were over. That was a much more pleasant subject to think about than the Pod. He glanced down at the doodles he'd made of octopuses peeking from behind his teammates and crumpled the paper into a wad.</p><p>
  <strong>WCWCWCWCWCWCWC</strong>
</p><p>Peter requested Neal speak with him privately after the briefing. Originally, his goal had been to quiz him about Mozzie but during the meeting, he began to wonder if something else was going on. During their discussion about a possible Mansfeld connection, Neal looked ill at ease. Perhaps it was the lighting, but he looked distinctly off-color.</p><p>It could be nothing. Maybe his lunch disagreed with him. But when Peter's Neal radar pinged a warning, Peter wasn't about to ignore it.</p><p>Peter had learned more than a few tricks from working with Neal over the years, and one was that when it came to personal issues, the front-door approach didn't work. Neal would laugh it off or deflect, so Peter started with the second item on his agenda—Mozzie.</p><p>"Take a seat," he said, closing his office door behind Neal. "I didn't want to bring it up in a group setting, but you'd mentioned something about a murder in 1982 to Mozzie on the phone. What was that about?"</p><p>The width of Neal's smile eased his qualms. "I figured you'd want to know. Mozzie asked me to look into the murder of Joseph Bassus to see if any new information had ever come to light, and I didn't think you'd mind a quick check."</p><p>"And I don't," Peter quickly assured him.</p><p>"I didn't find anything. The case is so cold, it might as well be stored in Antarctica."</p><p>"Why is Mozzie interested in Joseph Bassus? Don't tell me he's a member of the Illuminati."</p><p>Neal's mouth dropped. "You guessed?"</p><p>"I was joking," Peter protested.</p><p>Neal smiled knowingly. "But Mozzie isn't. Ever since Mozzie became convinced that the Skull and Bones secret society was linked to the Culper Ring of Revolutionary spies, he's been determined to prove a connection to the Illuminati."</p><p>"That case was several months ago. Why hasn't he moved on to some other conspiracy?" Peter checked himself. "Did he find something in that boarded-up room on campus? I remember him acting as if he'd made a discovery then insisting it was nothing."</p><p>"He found a sheet of paper written in Illuminati code," Neal revealed. "He's been working on it ever since. When he deciphered it, he realized it was a list of eight names. Mozzie's been trying to trace them. One of the names is Henry Bassus. His grandson is Joseph Bassus who is the murder victim Mozzie was asking about on the phone. Mozzie believes they could be descendants of Thomas Maria de Bassus, a known member of the original Bavarian Illuminati. Do you really want to know the rest?"</p><p>"But why is he so interested?"</p><p>Neal hesitated. "He's not engaged in anything illegal, as far as I know, if that's what you're worried about."</p><p>"Call me curious." Peter waited patiently. He suspected he was putting Neal on the spot since Mozzie didn't cough up secrets easily, but he also believed Neal would figure out a way to clue him in.</p><p>After a moment's consideration, Neal said, "You already know the answer." When Peter shot him a bewildered look, Neal added, "I don't blame you for wondering how Mozzie got the idea for a certain artifact in the last Arkham Files story."</p><p>"The Tudor Crown? The crown that's been lost since the seventeenth century?"</p><p>Neal nodded, trying to keep a straight face. "Since you guessed the truth, there's no harm in telling you. Mozzie believes the crown wasn't destroyed. Instead, through a very circuitous route—"</p><p>"—I can well imagine," Peter muttered.</p><p>Neal's attempt to maintain a straight face failed. "The salient point is that Mozzie believes the Illuminati had the crown in their possession and subsequently hid it somewhere near Yale or in New York City."</p><p>"It all makes sense now. The ghost we encountered was a bonesman from the Skull and Bones secret society. He was murdered by someone trying to find the location of the crown. The fact that the bonesman was dwelling in an insane asylum is irrelevant."</p><p>"Not necessarily. Mozzie believes that might have been a ruse to hide from his enemies."</p><p>"Then it didn't work," Peter said pointedly.</p><p>Neal shrugged. "Think of it this way. It's a harmless pursuit. Personally, I find it more entertaining than Mozzie's earlier obsession with tunnel slime. He's working on the project on his own. Checking on the file for Joseph Bassus was the limit of my involvement."</p><p>"I won't say a word about it," Peter promised, "but thanks for confirming my guess."</p><p>"You just don't want to get drawn into the hunt," Neal accused.</p><p>"True enough . . . not unless it involves the Mansfelds."</p><p>Neal exhaled noisily. "Not to my knowledge, but Rolf does have a habit of inserting himself where we least suspect it."</p><p>"You haven't received any messages?" Peter asked, detecting a crack in the back door.</p><p>"No, and nothing from Klaus either. After his sentencing, I wrote to him as Tricia suggested."</p><p>"Mind telling me what you wrote about?"</p><p>"I stuck to a safe subject—descriptions of the paintings I'm working on for the upcoming exhibition." Neal scanned Peter's face as if checking for his reaction. "Klaus and I always connected very well on art. It's something pure—unsullied by whatever else may be going on in our lives."</p><p>"I like that approach. I doubt he'll say anything about Rolf, but if he does, you'll pass it on?"</p><p>"Of course. Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?"</p><p>"Not really," Peter hedged then admitted, "You looked a little uncomfortable during the team's discussion of Cthulhu."</p><p>Neal made a face. "Tentacles are not my favorite subject these days. Lately it seems like whatever I do, cephalopods of one type or another manage to sneak in."</p><p>"You and me both. Would you like me to say something to Diana? There's no need for us to have to deal with tentacle-waving creatures in the next story."</p><p>"That's not necessary," Neal said, shaking his head. "What with the discussion of sea monsters, she's probably already jotted down ideas. Besides, you might enjoy something related to a kraken. Since it's a Scandinavian monster, it could give you an excuse to whip out your Viking helmet."</p><p>Peter understood Neal's unease about tentacles. Rolf appeared to inject himself into a case like an octopus emerging from the ocean depths. And that was undoubtedly the effect Rolf was savoring. Why else was he commenting on Diana's stories? </p><p>
  <strong>WCWCWCWCWCWCWC</strong>
</p><p>Neal wasn't going to let a few sea monsters spoil his enjoyment of the weekend in Cambridge. They started it off the right way with fencing victories in the morning. Afterward, Aidan treated the entire team to lunch to celebrate their undefeated season. In the afternoon, Neal and Travis would meet with Agent Shanise Lindsay from the FBI office. Richard, Aidan, and Keiko planned to visit the map exhibit and the MIT Museum.</p><p>The site of the exhibition, Houghton Library, was part of the complex of buildings in Harvard Yard. The Federal-style interior was an appropriate setting for the rare books and manuscripts housed within its walls. And even with the Carta Marina gone, the exhibition still had many maps on display. The creatures were so fanciful, you could hardly be scared of them. They would make excellent subjects for children's cartoons and Neal found himself inventing names like snufflepotamus for them.</p><p>When the agent arrived, Neal and Travis met with her in a seminar room set aside for their use. Shanise was a raw-boned brown-skinned woman in her thirties. Her accent was a mixture of Jamaican and the local nasal twang.</p><p>"We've made some progress on the case since your office contacted us," she said. "When we checked the wiring for the security sensors, we found this in the fuse box." She pulled out a specimen glass jar containing an origami of a squid.</p><p>The creature was made out of blue paper and appeared to be a novice effort. The folds weren't crisp and the edges hadn't been properly aligned. Eyes had been drawn on with a felt-tip marker. "A thief with a sense of humor?" Neal asked, raising a brow.</p><p>She grimaced. "We think it was a hack, probably by one or more students at MIT." It was evident she didn't find the origami amusing. "You may not be that familiar with student hack attacks. Most are innocent and can involve considerable feats of engineering. Only a very few have been malicious."</p><p>Travis's expression was also somber. "Do you believe undergrads stole the map?"</p><p>"This certainly raises the likelihood. The theft only happened a little over a day ago. I predict the library will soon get a ransom demand. Whoever stole the map had considerable programming expertise. Somehow the security software was disabled. The case containing the map had not been damaged in any way, and the sensors were intact."</p><p>"If it were a student hack, wouldn't they have left something obvious in its place, like, for instance, a map of MIT embellished with sea monsters?" Neal asked.</p><p>"That would be more typical," Shanise admitted. "But adding to the probability of MIT's involvement is that their student origami club is currently hosting an exhibition of origami sea creatures."</p><p>"Anyone skilled in the art would be insulted to be identified with this pitiful squid," Neal objected. "It seems more likely that someone is mocking them."</p><p>"That's also possible," she granted. "So far we don't have any suspects. Have you gotten any response from the dark web?"</p><p>"Not yet," Travis said. "Is it all right with you if I meet with the security company in charge of the software?"</p><p>"I was going to ask you to do so," she said. "You have much more experience with museum security malware than our office does. I'd read bulletins about your partnership with art museums."</p><p>Neal was looking forward to the results as well. Aidan's company had written anti-malware to safeguard against the kind of attack initiated by Rolf Mansfeld, and it had been adopted by museums across the world. But libraries were a different matter. Most possessed only rudimentary security systems despite their collections increasingly being targeted by thieves.</p><p>After the meeting, he and Travis caught up with the other members of their group at the MIT Museum.</p><p>Aidan glowered at the news. "I can't believe MIT students are being suspected of the crime. MIT hacks aren't thefts, even if would be tempting to do something at Harvard."</p><p>"I feel the same way," Travis agreed. "If someone had installed in Harvard Yard a giant model of a kraken gobbling up a miniature of Houghton Library, now that would be a superb hack. This isn't worthy of being associated with the time-honored tradition."</p><p>"And you'll be able to help Travis prove it," Richard told Aidan, in an apparent attempt to soothe his wounded pride. "Any suggestions for the rest of us while you and Travis meet with security?"</p><p>"You haven't seen the kinetic sculpture exhibit," Aidan said. "Some of them remind me of the mobiles Richard made during his first semester of Columbia. There's also a special exhibit of famous MIT hacks. Afterward, you could visit the origami exhibit. It's being held at the Wiesner Student Art Gallery."</p><p>Neal liked the ideas. The connection to origami bothered him more than he was willing to admit to the others. He wished it was somehow related to the MIT exhibit. Aidan might not like it, but for Neal, it was preferable than the other option.</p><p>The Mansfelds knew about Neal's fondness for the craft. Klaus had slipped him a message inside an origami of the leopard during an encounter at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. A few months later, Rolf had added a message to the origami Christmas tree at the Museum of Natural History which Neal was helping to decorate. Both origamis had been skillfully made, a far cry from the squid at Houghton. Moreover, there was no text in the current example. But Peter would likely jump to the same conclusion that Neal had. Somehow, one or both Mansfelds were involved.</p><p>The complexity of the designs at the MIT origami exhibition was as breathtaking as Neal had expected. There was even a model of a kraken attacking a sailing vessel. The student who made it happened to be present. He was giving a talk about how he'd constructed it. Neal picked up a flyer about the origami club. The advisor was Alice Langton, a professor in the brain and cognitive sciences department. She could be a contact if anything else linked the crime to the group.  </p><p>What was the hidden message to the squid? It was difficult to see any link to the origami club, and their selection of sea monsters was natural given the ongoing exhibit at Harvard. But if the Mansfelds were involved with the squid, wouldn't they have left behind an expertly crafted origami? All Neal knew for certain was that the squid couldn't be ignored.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Notes: Thanks for reading! Attack of the Kraken has 3 chapters which I'll post weekly on Wednesday. My latest blog post, <a href="https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/2020/08/backstage-at-attack-of-kraken.html">Backstage at Attack of the Kraken</a>, has background information about the story and the origami kraken Neal saw at MIT. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Neal and Peter's first stargazing event was over a Halloween weekend in The Woman in Blue. The following summer, they helped out at an astronomy camp in Fireflies at Midnight. In Columbia Ghost Story, Peter and Neal made plans for the Messier Marathon as an alternative to the Halloween retreat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Story Visuals: The Attack of the Kraken board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website: <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/caffreycon">pinterest.com/caffreycon</a></em><br/>
<em>Blog: Penna Nomen &amp; Silbrith Conversation: <a href="http://www.pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com">pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com</a></em><br/>
<em>Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/silbrith">@silbrith</a></em>
</p><p>
  <em><strong>Background on the Caffrey Conversation AU for new readers</strong>:  This series was created by Penna Nomen and begins with her story Caffrey Conversation. Our blog has a list and short summaries for all the stories in chronological order. The primary difference from canon is that Neal was never sent to prison and the characters are several years younger. The personalities of canon characters (Elizabeth, Mozzie, Diana, Jones, Hughes, June, and Sara) are the same. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Peter recruited Neal in 2003 when he was 24. In the fall of 2004, he entered Columbia University's graduate program in art as a part-time student. In the spring of 2005, Peter and Neal were appointed to the Interpol art crimes task force. The work on the task force is part-time and places additional emphasis on art crimes for the White Collar team. In canon, Neal's only relatives to be mentioned are his father and mother. In ours, his mother Meredith has a twin sister named Noelle who is a psychologist. Noelle married Peter's older brother Joe during the 2004 Christmas holidays. Henry Winslow is Noelle's son and nearly three years older than Neal. He works at a private investigation and security company named Winston-Winslow (usually referred to as Win-Win). Neal has one other cousin, Angela, who is the daughter of Noelle and Meredith's deceased brother. Working with the White Collar team are two non-canon characters: Travis Miller, a technical expert, and Tricia Wiese, a profiler. Neal's friends at Columbia include fellow grad students Richard and Aidan. Pins for the entire cast and locations are on our Caffrey Conversation Pinterest site.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Godzilla and the Kraken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Cambridge, Massachusetts. Saturday, March 25, 2006.</strong>
</p>
<p>Travis called Neal to let him know that he and Aidan had received permission to download the library's security system program. They'd spend the evening analyzing it at the FBI's Boston office. Travis expected it would be close to dawn by the time they returned to the hotel.</p>
<p>The rest of them were free to spend the evening exploring Boston. Since Keiko had been here before, she was elected tour guide by unanimous consent. Clearly, she knew what would appeal to Richard as she took them on a tour of some of the creepier parts of Boston's North End, including several old graveyards. Their first stop was Copps Hill Burying Ground, a cemetery dating back to the 1600s. Scenes from one of Lovecraft's short stories had been set in the cemetery. June had filled Neal in on the plot when she heard he'd be in Boston. Would Diana be able to resist drawing from the nightmarish account of Richard Pickman, an artist who painted ghouls and later turned into one himself? Neal devoutly hoped so. Ghouls had yet to appear in Arkham Files, and June promised to do her best to dampen any latent enthusiasm for the corpse-eating gibbering creatures.</p>
<p>By the time they got back to the hotel, it was past midnight but no one was in the mood to sleep. Instead, Richard suggested they invent a story for their peewee-sized hero, Yellowface the Masked Avenger. The yellow-faced bee character had been created for a short feature Aidan had produced the previous year. For the bee's new adventure, Keiko came up with the idea of a Godzilla epic, where Yellowface joined forces with Mothra to save Tokyo from the iconic Japanese monster.</p>
<p>It was close to three o'clock in the morning by the time Travis opened the door. "I didn't expect you'd still be up," he said as he and Aidan entered the room.</p>
<p>Aidan stared curiously at the sheets of paper which cluttered the coffee table. "What are you working on?"</p>
<p>"You probably don't want to know," Keiko said, scooping up the illustrations. Neal and Richard exchanged knowing nods. Those drawings were keepers, even if Keiko didn't want to show them off just yet.</p>
<p>"Did you have success?" Richard asked.</p>
<p>Travis pursed his lips. "I'm not sure that's the word I'd use, but we did discover tampering."</p>
<p>"The program had been infected with a virus similar to the museum malware that had been utilized by Ydrus," Aidan said. "It's a more sophisticated design but has many shared characteristics. It's tempting to believe the programmer had access to the original malware."</p>
<p>"So Rolf could be involved with it?" Richard persisted.</p>
<p>"It's possible," Travis conceded, "but we've never found any direct evidence tying Rolf to the malware. The only circumstantial bits are that he's an expert in esoteric programming languages and that Lovecraft's symbol of the glowing branch was hidden in the program."</p>
<p>"Evidence that was far too flimsy to indict Rolf for the crimes," Neal added. "Most of the paintings which were recovered from the castle in Hungary had been stolen with the help of the malware, but trying Rolf as an accessory for the crimes was a difficult case to make." In the end, the evidence was submitted, but Rolf's lawyers were able to convince the jury that the case was too tenuous for him to be convicted.</p>
<p>"The original malware was tagged with Lovecraft's glowing branch symbol," Keiko said. "Was there an identifier in this program?"</p>
<p>Aidan nodded. "An ASCII representation of an octopus was buried in the code." He chuckled. "I have to give the programmer credit. Octopuses are famous for their ability to mimic their surroundings. This little beauty was camouflaged so well, I almost didn't spot it."</p>
<p>"I hadn't noticed it," Travis admitted. "We're very lucky to have Aidan's assistance."</p>
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</p>
<p>"Trouble?" El asked, keeping her tone low key, when Peter turned off his cell phone.</p>
<p>They'd just finished breakfast when the call from Travis came through. El considered leaving the room to give Peter privacy, but she knew he'd say something if it was necessary. The fact he didn't made her wonder if the Mansfelds were involved. That was the one case where the White Collar agents were encouraged to confide in their families. All of them  were potential targets.</p>
<p>Peter nodded absently, apparently still digesting the news. "Malware was used for the theft, and the code has elements reminiscent of Rolf's programming. I don't like it, hon. I'm starting to suspect Rolf might not have been responsible for the malware after all."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"          </p>
<p>"What if his silent partner wrote it instead? If that's true, Cthulhu could be even more of a programming genius than Rolf."</p>
<p>El refilled Peter's coffee cup. "Earlier you suspected the partner might be involved in a video-game piracy ring. Cthulhu's tentacles are expanding their reach?"</p>
<p>"It's looking more likely. The hacker we arrested had a handle of Pod2, leading us to believe the ring was called the Pod. Mozzie leaped to the conclusion that the word was short for cephalopod. I gave him grief about it, but it looks like I may owe him an apology."</p>
<p>"How so?"</p>
<p>"An octopus design was incorporated into the code, increasing the likelihood of a connection to both the Pod and to Rolf."</p>
<p>El took a seat beside him. The thought that Rolf was intruding once more into their lives was disquieting. They'd vowed to no longer put their lives on hold but was that really the correct course? "Do you need to go to Boston?"</p>
<p>"Not unless someone responds to my offer on the dark web." Peter smiled at her. "No need for us to change our plans," he said as if reading her mind. "I'd promised we'd go shopping for furniture for your new office. By the time we've walked Satchmo, the stores will be open."</p>
<p>"Will Neal and Travis have the day off too?"</p>
<p>"Yes, although I'm not sure that's a good thing. Neal said Aidan was going to take them on a tour of the MIT tunnels."</p>
<p>"I didn't realize MIT had an underground system. Is it anything like Columbia's?"</p>
<p>"God, I hope not. I'm counting on Travis to steer them out of trouble. Keiko is there. Surely Aidan wouldn't put her at risk."</p>
<p>Peter's chivalrous ideas about women were not that different from Neal's. El sighed to herself. She'd spent several days with Keiko last summer when they'd been in California, and Keiko was as much a sci-fi and horror enthusiast as Richard. El had been placing gentle hints in Arkham Files about women not needing to be coddled but evidently they were too subtle. Mozzie had a much better understanding of modern women than her husband. It could be time to ask for his help.</p>
<p>She and Peter were considering starting a family. If she became pregnant, she didn't want to be smothered with an overly solicitous husband. As it was, she suspected the way Peter stewed over what trouble Neal might get into was a faint shadow of how bad he'd be with her.</p>
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<p>"Not very atmospheric, are they?" Keiko said, wincing sympathetically at Richard.</p>
<p>He shook his head in obvious disappointment. "I suppose they might provide inspiration for a spaceship, but it's hard to imagine a less likely place for monsters to lurk."</p>
<p>"I should have been prepared," Travis said. "When I mentioned the tunnels to Mozzie, he said I'd be far more interested in the institute's center for astrophysics, and he was right."</p>
<p>For Neal, the giveaway had been when Mozzie didn't ask him to check for slime. The tunnels were painted bright white and seemingly stretched out to infinity.  Modern doors opened to buildings. No tags by spelunkers adorned the walls. Instead there were signs and miniature maps at regular intervals. The ubiquitous "you are here" symbols were the ultimate insult. Thrill-seekers would be outta luck.</p>
<p>"Hey, don't disparage this engineering marvel," Aidan said defensively. "You should be in Cambridge during a blizzard. Then you'd have a better appreciation of them. Or, better yet, come down late at night when screams echo through the labyrinth."</p>
<p>"Yeah, right," Richard scoffed.</p>
<p>"It's the truth," Aidan insisted. "One of the best ways to work off the pressure of classes is to drag an office chair on wheels into the tunnels, find one of the sloping passages, and rocket down the corridor while screaming all the way." He grinned. "I became a gold medalist during my undergrad days. Try doing that in a Columbia tunnel."</p>
<p>Privately, Neal was glad the tunnels didn't lend themselves to ghosts dragging chains. "Can you imagine the fencing matches which could be held here?" he said, attempting to divert their focus from horror. "We could chase each other down the corridors for hours."</p>
<p>"Speaking of which, did you hear the MIT fencing team talk about a pirate's certificate?" Keiko asked. "They're working on a certification program where if you take part in four different types of sports, you could become a certified pirate. We should start something at Columbia."</p>
<p>"What are the required sports?" Neal asked, intrigued by the concept. At the end of the semester, he'd finally have diplomas for a bragging wall. Adding a pirate certificate could be the crowning touch.</p>
<p>"I talked with the MIT fencing team captain about it," Aidan said. "The sports are archery, fencing, pistol, and sailing."</p>
<p>"We should be able to handle that," Keiko said. "We've got fencing nailed. Henry could help us with sailing. Travis could be our pistol coach, and I can teach you archery."</p>
<p>"It would need to be official with appropriate tests for validation," Aidan warned. "Graduation's only a couple of months off. I don't see how we could obtain approval in such a short length of time."</p>
<p>"I bet Mozzie could figure out a way to make it happen," Keiko insisted. "All we'd need to do is secure the permission of the physical education department to test us in each discipline. I bet it would be a winner among grad students and undergrads alike."</p>
<p>Was Keiko's confidence well placed? Mozzie would love the challenge. Of course, it would also mean that he'd insist on a certificate for himself, and, given that, to Neal's knowledge, Mozzie had never engaged in archery, fencing, or sailing, his would be the most difficult path.</p>
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<p>When Neal hadn't heard anything from Peter by Monday morning, he assumed that he and Travis would ride back to New York with the others. They'd already extended their stay in Cambridge by one day. It was time to return to New York. Realistically, the odds were slim that anyone would have picked up Peter's offer so quickly, but it was still disappointing.</p>
<p>So when Neal's cell phone rang as they were loading their bags into the van, his heart gave a jump of excitement. Was the game back on?</p>
<p>"Can you hold onto that suite?" Peter asked.</p>
<p>"I think so," Neal said. "Why would we want to?"</p>
<p>"Because Jones and I are coming up. Someone calling themselves the Mariner claims to have the map and is willing to sell. Jones and I will arrive midday."</p>
<p>Peter had already spoken with Agent Lindsay. Monday could now be considered a workday since they'd spend the afternoon at the FBI office in Boston preparing for the upcoming sting.</p>
<p>Peter's alias of Steinar Wolff was riding the wave of two impressive sting operations, first in New York and then in Florence. Would they be able to score a trifecta? Neal wished he felt more confident. Generally speaking in cons, the seller had the advantage since they had much more ability to set the terms. This time, Peter would be a buyer with limited negotiating leverage.</p>
<p>The Mariner had used the same routing code as the anonymous client who last month had commissioned Ryan Wilkes to steal a Vermeer painting from the Frick Collection. Wilkes had finally coughed up that bit of evidence in an attempt to reduce the kidnapping sentence he faced. The link to Vermeer made either Rolf or his silent partner a likely suspect. The evidence supporting Mozzie's assertion that Cthulhu was behind the theft of the <em>Carta Marina</em> was beginning to look ironclad.</p>
<p>"Will Diana come as well?" Neal asked.</p>
<p>"No, Tricia is anxious to meet with the Round Table on Monday to nail down the strategy for the next Arkham Files story. Boston will provide logistics and additional personnel as needed."</p>
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<p>As Diana walked up the steps to June's front entrance, she felt like taking them two at a time. What a change from a couple of months ago! Back then she was about ready to hang up her writer's hat. With Rolf behind bars, the original justification for the stories had disappeared. Certain members of the Round Table seemed hell-bent on turning her Arkham Files adventures into romances and made her feel like a Grinch for raising objections.</p>
<p>But not now. Let El, June, and Mozzie spin their romances. They'd all have to play second fiddle to Cthulhu.</p>
<p>Diana had secretly rejoiced when the evidence for Rolf's silent partner became compelling. Not that she was thrilled at having another enemy to face, but that was the nature of her job. At least with Cthulhu, there would be the added stimulus of a writing challenge.</p>
<p>If she were being completely honest, she'd have to admit—but only to herself—that facing an opponent like Rolf had been an addictive thrill. Using the stories to manipulate the Mansfeld brothers was far more satisfying than any of her other assignments.</p>
<p>When Rolf and Klaus had been captured, along with the glow of success, there was also an element of . . . well, it could only be described as postpartum depression. Not something she'd ever admit to any of the rest of the team. Christie was aware there was an issue, but Diana was unwilling to discuss it with her. It was too embarrassing.</p>
<p>She was a highly trained and skilled Special Agent. Cases came and went. Nostalgia for Azathoth? How sick was that?</p>
<p> And then along came Cthulhu.</p>
<p>Mozzie must have been thinking of her when he chose that moniker. He knew how much she liked octopuses. When Neal gave them octopus writer's hats, it was an omen. The only slight fly in her tentacle-wrapped plans was Peter's caution to not go overboard on cephalopod goodness. It had been a surprising comment—probably caused by some off-the-cuff remark Mozzie had made. She was sure that once Peter read her synopsis, he'd have no objections, especially since Cthulhu was likely involved with the stolen map of sea monsters.</p>
<p>When Diana rang the doorbell, El answered it. "Am I the last one to arrive?" Diana asked.</p>
<p>"No, most everyone will be late today. Tricia called to tell us to go ahead and start without her.  Henry texted he's on his way. June's setting out the snacks in the dining room. Just wait till you taste Emil's raspberry almond croissants."</p>
<p>Diana sighed with anticipated pleasure. Was it any wonder she loved meetings of the Arkham Round Table?</p>
<p>She recognized she was in a generous mood and it wasn't simply because of the croissants although they didn't hurt. She could have waited for El to bring up the topic, but instead she decided to broach the subject as they stepped into the dining room. "Are there any suggestions you'd like to make for your character?" Arkham El's pregnancy had formerly been a hot-button issue for Diana, but no longer, not since she had Cthulhu to play with.</p>
<p>"I'm glad you asked," El said brightly. "June and I were just discussing it."</p>
<p><em>Here it comes—baby names. </em>Diana took a seat close to the platter of croissants and prepared to fortify herself.</p>
<p>June gave Diana a sly smile as if she knew exactly what she was thinking. And since she'd been acting as her beta reader for over a year, she probably did.</p>
<p>"I didn't mind Arkham El having difficulties her first trimester," El said, "but I don't want her entire storyline to be centered around the baby. She's a modern woman with professional responsibilities."</p>
<p>"El makes a good point," June agreed. "On the other hand, the uncertainty caused by the algolnium injections she received allows us to consider other options that could add an element of suspense."</p>
<p><em>Like tentacles?</em> "Do you have anything specific in mind?" Diana asked, taking a big bite of croissant.</p>
<p>"Women in our world face complex pregnancies because of a number of reasons. Perhaps something to which female readers can relate to but with an alien spin," El suggested.</p>
<p>
  <em>Exactly! Tentacles instead of legs are the ideal solution.</em>
</p>
<p>"And as long as we're discussing the alien influence, perhaps we should revisit Mozzie and Lavinia," El added.</p>
<p>Diana groaned, determined not to be sidetracked. "I thought we put the kibosh on that at our last session."</p>
<p>June chuckled. "I'm sure Mozzie didn't think so."</p>
<p>El leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes which made Diana think she was going to like her suggestion. "What if Mozzie were to become pregnant? He and El could munch on brownies together and make baby plans."</p>
<p>Diana snorted. "You're not serious." Although those tentacles were waving at her once more. Having them on Mozzie's baby would be so much more satisfying.</p>
<p>"I hope she is," June retorted. "I love the role reversal, and Mozzie might as well. We've kept the Meropians' true nature a mystery. Lavinia could be male, or perhaps Meropians don't have genders as humans understand the concept. Lavinia has already demonstrated she could be a man when she disguised herself as Arkham El's colleague Vijay."</p>
<p>"You don't think that will be too wild?" Diana asked even as she began contemplating the possibility that Lavinia was herself an octopus in disguise.</p>
<p>"On the contrary," El said. "It has parallels to our own world. You were both at Neal's gallery reception last Tuesday. Did you speak with Britta?"</p>
<p>Diana ripped her wandering brain cells from cephalopods to focus on what they were saying. The reception had been at Konstgrotta, a gallery owned by Britta Forsberg, the partner of Neal's art advisor, Myra Stockman. Neal's eclectic painting style was a revelation to Diana. She tended to label him as a traditionalist because of his forgeries, but his own works were refreshingly contemporary and imaginative. The exhibition had been to introduce the new talent which Britta specialized in, and several works by students or recent graduates from Columbia were on display.</p>
<p>"I doubt many realize Britta is a trans woman," El continued. "In a sense, is she that different from some of the ideas we've had for Lavinia?"</p>
<p>June nodded. "And if you tried to explain Myra's pregnancy to someone from Victorian England, they'd refuse to believe it was possible."</p>
<p>"Myra's pregnant?" Diana asked, surprised. "I didn't know. What's so unusual about it?"</p>
<p>"Myra told me Britta's the father," El said. "They're very proud of how the pregnancy was achieved. Britta had frozen some of her sperm before undergoing surgery."</p>
<p>How could that be meshed into a Cthulhu Mythos plot? While the others talked, Diana jotted down ideas.</p>
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<p>Henry had done his due diligence for the Arkham Round Table. Over the past few months, he'd read every work written by H.P. Lovecraft along with many of the stories by his followers. Henry had never been into the tales as a kid but this was different—it was research for a case. There was no way of knowing if that hypothetical silent partner of Rolf was interested in Lovecraft, but that didn't matter. The key was that Rolf was, and the Arkham Round Table was about to push his buttons.</p>
<p>Henry arrived at June's just as Tricia and Mozzie arrived. At the start of the meeting, Tricia provided a brief overview of Neal's current case.</p>
<p>"So we're all in agreement," Tricia said in conclusion, scanning the group. "We'll develop a second threat to our friends in Arkham. Does anyone have any suggestions?"</p>
<p>"Not to be obvious," Diana said, "but shouldn't it revolve around Cthulhu?"</p>
<p>"Not necessarily," Henry said. "If nothing else, for the reason you mentioned. It's too obvious. You want to keep Rolf off balance. Assuming he is behind the theft of the map, you don't want to turn your cards face-up on the table by focusing on sea monsters."</p>
<p>"Do you have a counter proposal to make?" Mozzie asked.</p>
<p>Henry placed a slim volume on the table and tapped on the cover. "What if we used a creation by an earlier author who inspired Lovecraft? Wouldn't that by its very nature give it ascendancy over anything in Lovecraft?"</p>
<p>"Who do you have in mind?" June asked, eyeing the used book with curiosity.</p>
<p>"Robert Chambers, the author of <em>The King in Yellow.</em> Lovecraft supposedly referenced several of his creations in his own works, including a mysterious yellow sign."</p>
<p>"I like it already!" Mozzie exclaimed. "We may even be able to work in a reference to the yellow-faced bee."</p>
<p>"Very possibly," Henry said, trying to keep a straight face as if he thought Mozzie's idea was remotely feasible.</p>
<p>"That could work," Diana said unexpectedly. "We already have the priest in the yellow mask, otherwise known as Nyarlathotep. Is he the one you're thinking of?"</p>
<p>"No, but Rolf might think so," Henry said, quickly factoring the possibility into his scenario. A correlation between the yellow-faced bee and Nyarlathotep? He wouldn't have even considered the notion, but Rolf must know about the bee. "We could play on the uncertainty of the foe's identity. Up to now, the stories have focused on the connection to the planet Tirelia. I propose we open a second front by creating a connection to Asia."</p>
<p>"Why Asia?" El challenged. "Africa could be a better fit for Peter's research."</p>
<p>"China's just as important if not more so during Neolithic times," Henry asserted. "And if we want to use the yellow-faced bee, the anime series is being produced in Japan. Rolf could be thrown for a loop, wondering just what we were alluding to."</p>
<p>"Plus Asia's a veiled reference to that Chinese server Travis uncovered that was linked to Pod2," Mozzie pointed out. "It could make Rolf nervous about how much we know."</p>
<p>"There are several references in Lovecraft's works to Asian sites," June said, lending her support.</p>
<p>Henry was pleased by the positive response. The challenge would be to keep them away from horrors coming out of the ocean depths without making an issue of it. Diana could be a particularly hard sell since she appeared to have tentacles on her brain. But Henry was determined to succeed.</p>
<p>Neal hadn't mentioned anything recently, but a couple of months ago he'd been having nightmares about sea creatures. With the team's focus on Cthulhu, Henry suspected he was still having an occasional issue. Fortunately, Neal had an inside man on the scene who could steer plots in the correct direction.</p>
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<p>Agent Lindsay had allocated a small office for the team's use in the FBI's Boston office. The sting was in many ways straightforward. The seller, known as the Mariner, requested a meeting at eight o'clock in a town east of Cambridge called Somerville. Exact directions were to be supplied once the buyers were at the intersection of Blakeley and Garfield Avenues, an area that had several warehouses for lease. Most likely one of them would be used for the exchange.</p>
<p>By the conclusion of the day on Monday, Peter was pleased with the progress. Only a few details remained to be hammered out.</p>
<p>"Neal, what specialized equipment will you require to confirm the map's authenticity?" Lindsay asked.</p>
<p>"Just a portable Raman spectrometer. Jones brought one along from the lab."</p>
<p>"I'll accompany Neal to the meeting," Peter added.</p>
<p>"There's no need for anyone else to go along," Neal protested. "It will minimize risk if I go alone. I can handle the wiring instructions without assistance."</p>
<p>"That's not happening," Peter ordered. "You don't know what you may run into."</p>
<p>"Exactly. That's why this is a solo job," Neal said, not budging from his position. "If I have to switch gears on the fly, I won't need to worry about a communication glitch."</p>
<p>"I could go with Neal," Jones offered. "That will free you up to oversee the op."</p>
<p>"If you insist on someone else going along, Jones is a better candidate," Neal agreed. He looked pleadingly at Peter. "Be reasonable about this."</p>
<p>"Oh no, you don't get to play the reasonable card with me," Peter said, glaring at him. "That card's mine, and I'm the logical person to go."</p>
<p>Lindsay exhaled slowly, frowning at both of them. "I need to check with support personnel. By the time I return, I'm sure you will have reached an agreement. If you haven't, I'll do it for you and you'll have to live with it."</p>
<p>Peter appreciated that she gave them privacy. He didn't understand what was causing Neal's attitude. And why was Jones supporting him? Travis, smart man, didn't register an opinion. He was seated at a side table, putting their custom watches through a systems check. Peter hoped he wouldn't have to call on him for reinforcement.</p>
<p>Since when had the team become a democracy? Did Neal still have no sense of the chain of command? Peter could have simply issued the order, but he wanted to know what was behind Neal's sudden reluctance.</p>
<p>Addressing the issue head-on, Peter asked, "Are you worried my con skills aren't up to snuff?"</p>
<p>Neal winced. "It's not that." He took a breath. "You know how your gut tells you when something's wrong? With me, it's the hairs on the back of my neck, and the way they're prickling is a warning. Maybe it's because of the speculation about Cthulhu, but this isn't like the other Steiner Wolff cons where you were the seller."</p>
<p>"You think we're being set up?" Peter asked bluntly.</p>
<p>"We should be prepared for it," he agreed. "Whoever's selling the map has to be concerned that the offer's legit."</p>
<p>"Neal makes a good point, and it wouldn't do any harm for me to play your role," Jones agreed. "If nothing else, it will keep them guessing."</p>
<p>Peter perched on the edge of a table while he mulled over their concerns. Would Jones be better than him if they had to make split-second change of plans? His second-in-command was ten years younger. His reflexes might be faster, but that was a bitter pill to swallow.</p>
<p>"I brought along my dreadlock disguise just in case," Jones continued. "Your Steinar Wolff alias will still be intact."</p>
<p>"But when I sold Neal's Da Vinci to the mob boss in Italy, I was disguised as Steinar Wolff," Peter objected. "Neal was with me. We expected that my identity would be linked to his. I'm supposed to be his handler. Assume for the moment that the thief has heard about Neal and knows who he is. Wouldn't they be spooked by a stranger partnering with him?"</p>
<p>"Jones could be your lieutenant," Neal suggested. His eyes had a mute plea for Peter to relent. Was he really so insecure about Peter's ability or was something else at play?</p>
<p>Their discussion in the bell tower in the Cloisters last November could be playing a role. Neal had thought Peter was having cold feet about the sting, when in reality he was concerned that Neal was dating a cat burglar. If Neal was thinking back on that incident, this was the perfect assignment to demonstrate his fears were unfounded. Peter prided himself on being in as good if not better physical condition than anyone else on his team, and he was a helluva lot stronger than Neal.</p>
<p>"Both Jones and I have pluses and minuses, just like you do," Peter said pointedly. "I appreciate your voicing your opinion, but my decision stands."</p>
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<p>Neal's jitters didn't stop but he buried them deep. That obstinate set to Peter's jaw indicated that he wasn't budging. Neal needed to appear confident for both their sakes while keeping himself on high alert to bail Peter out at the first sign of trouble. </p>
<p>During the preliminary negotiations, Peter had supplied the number of a burner phone. At eight o'clock that evening, he and Neal were at the prearranged intersection. Travis and Jones were monitoring them along with Agent Lindsay in an unmarked van. A second van with support personnel was a block away.</p>
<p>Neal wore a black leather jacket and jeans to the meet. His equipment was stored in a duffel bag. Peter was in his Steinar Wolff disguise—a short beard and longish wig of dark hair. He also carried a gun but they assumed it would be taken from him. Peter had memorized the wiring instructions which would appear to deposit the agreed-upon price of $400,000 into the thief's bank account.</p>
<p>When the call came through, a man's voice told them to walk to a warehouse two blocks away. </p>
<p>"We go with Plan B," Peter murmured both to Neal and for the benefit of the watch feed as they walked along a street devoid of pedestrians. Late March still meant wintry conditions in Boston. Dirty slush from last week's snowstorm lined the streets and sidewalks. Neal had stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.</p>
<p>"Agreed," Neal said, maintaining an easy stride. The contingency plan was to delay any transfer of funds. It now appeared likely that the meeting would be in an interior location where the risk of a trap was much higher. According to Plan B, after Neal verified the authenticity of the map, Peter would insist the actual transfer be held outdoors at a separate meeting.</p>
<p>The door to the warehouse was unlocked. One heavyset man wearing a hood waited for them inside and directed them to an inner room. The door was surprisingly solid. It had been fitted with a rubber gasket to form a tight seal. Definitely not standard issue. Neal caught Peter also flicking a glance at it. Likely the inner room was insulated against any electronic signals. Although their watches would transmit any sounds, Travis and Jones wouldn't receive them.</p>
<p>Neal immediately leaped into bolt-hole mode. The door had already closed behind them. They'd have to con their way out of what was increasingly clear was a trap. Would Peter recognize the audible? More than ever, Neal wished he'd gone in solo.</p>
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  <em>Notes: Neal doesn't have to worry about monsters lurking in the MIT tunnels. Instead, danger comes from another direction in Chapter 3: Shafted. In case you're wondering, MIT does indeed award a pirate certificate. There's a pin of one on the Pinterest board. The first certificates were issued in 2011.</em>
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<p>
  <em>Story Visuals: The Attack of the Kraken board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website: <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/caffreycon">pinterest.com/caffreycon</a></em>
  <br/>
  <em>Blog: Penna Nomen &amp; Silbrith Conversation: <a href="http://www.pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com">pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com</a></em>
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  <em>Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/silbrith">@silbrith</a></em>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Shafted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <strong>Warehouse in Somerville, Massachusetts. Monday, March 27, 2006.</strong>
</p><p>Peter scanned the four figures grouped inside the small room. They all wore green cotton hoods over their heads. The shapes resembled the white hoods worn by members of the Ku Klux Klan. There was nothing old-fashioned about the Glocks two of them were carrying. Peter's adrenaline went into high gear as his mind raced. Was this meant to be a lynching? Were the hoods merely for identity concealment or was there a hidden significance? The room was bare of furniture except for one metal table along the far wall. The map was displayed on top of it.</p><p>He and Neal were frisked as soon as they entered the room. Peter's gun was taken. There were no weapons in Neal's gym bag but they seized it anyway.</p><p>"St. Patrick's Day has already passed," Neal said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Are you still partying?" Jerking his head to Peter, he added, "These frat boys aren't worth our time," and turned as if to leave. Did he want Peter to follow him? Or was this a bargaining tactic? The map was right there. They couldn't just abandon it. Peter hesitated. Neal was already at the door.</p><p>"Not so fast," the tallest of the three said. There was no distinctive accent to the man's voice. "You should at least take a look before you leave. You'll see this is no prank." He stood next to Peter, gun in hand, and gestured toward the map. How much of an implied threat was in the gun? Neal didn't appear flustered, but would the guy wing him if he tried to leave?</p><p>Peter turned to Neal. "Go ahead and authenticate it."</p><p>Neal paused, his hand on the doorknob, and then retraced his steps. "I'll need my equipment," he said, glaring at the hooded figure holding his bag.</p><p>The lead guy snapped his fingers. "Give it to him."</p><p>Neal placed his bag on the table and pulled out a magnifying glass. The gang appeared to be taking appropriate care of the map. It was spread out on archival paper on top of a large portfolio case. Peter approached to take a closer look.</p><p>Without warning the floor gave way underneath him. Peter's stomach rose to his throat as he plummeted down a long narrow shaft. Neal was tumbling with him.</p><p>Peter crashed onto the ground an instant before Neal landed on top of him.</p><p>
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</p><p>"Are you getting a signal?" Agent Lindsay asked.</p><p>Jones shook his head, frustrated to have his fear confirmed. "Still nothing."</p><p>Travis swiveled his chair to face him. "The watches were transmitting for a minute before I lost the signal. My bet is they're inside an office. It's either insulated or they're using a jammer."</p><p>"That doesn't necessarily indicate there's a problem," Lindsay said. "Burke was going to insist on an outside location for the transfer. This meeting is just to confirm the authenticity."</p><p>Yeah, in the best-case scenario. But Jones's job was to plan for the worst. Caffrey had said he'd need at the most twenty minutes to authenticate the map. Allowing for enough time to argue about a location for the transfer, they still should be done in thirty to forty-five minutes. So far thirty-three minutes had elapsed. If agents barged in while Peter was still negotiating terms, the sting would be ruined.</p><p>So they'd wait.</p><p>Jones's tension mounted with each minute that passed. The odds were increasing steadily that Caffrey had been right to suspect a trap. Jones should have been more forceful in arguing to accompany him, but the boss clearly hadn't wanted to budge.</p><p>After an hour with no sign of anyone, Lindsay ordered her agents to take their positions outside and prepare to move in. Jones went outside with them, grim over what they might discover. Travis stayed in the van to monitor the feeds.</p><p>At Lindsay's signal, they swarmed the building. The front door was unlocked, an open invitation as well as a signal that they'd been out-maneuvered.</p><p>Their footsteps echoed ominously in the cold empty shell of a warehouse. A room had been partitioned off in one corner. The door was open. One metal table, but no sign that anyone had been there.  They couldn't simply have vanished, but that's what it looked like. There was no overhead attic to hide. The building was wired for electricity. The perps would have been spotted if they'd escaped through a hidden door in the walls. The building had been monitored on all sides by Lindsay's agents. That left only one route—through the floor.</p><p>They concentrated their efforts on the office, assuming that the men had been taken there for the authentication. The slab was covered in vinyl-plank flooring.  Lindsay called in an extra team to rip off the flooring.</p><p>The escape route popped into view as soon as the planks came off. A straight chute down into an abandoned subway tunnel. Access was controlled remotely. Travis suspected the device was concealed in a pocket. A simple press of a button could release the trap door, causing whoever was standing on it to fall some twenty feet onto the tracks. The door had been disguised so well by the flooring, Jones doubted even Caffrey had spotted it.</p><p>The Boston police were called in to help with the crime scene. The blood samples were identified as A-negative—the blood type of both men. Some distance away, a manhole cover opened from the tunnel onto the street. It had most likely served as their exit point. Why were they abducted? Not that Jones wasn't grateful they hadn't been killed, but the motive wasn't clear.</p><p>Unless that is, Rolf was involved.</p><p>There were similarities to their earlier abduction over a year ago. Was Rolf playing yet another twisted game? Or was Jones simply grasping at straws that Rolf was pulling the strings? There were other possible reasons for the abduction. Rolf was by no means the only criminal to have a grudge.</p><p> Jones debated calling Elizabeth and Henry. By now, it was the middle of the night. Both were likely asleep, and realistically there was nothing that could be done. On the other hand, a ransom demand was a real possibility.</p><p>Jones hesitated for only a minute before placing the calls. If the Mariner was affiliated with the Mansfelds, he likely knew Peter's identity. In Caffrey's case, it was difficult to know who might be notified. Tricia lived close to the Burkes and would accompany a team to their townhouse. Diana was in charge of notifying June and Henry.</p><p>It would have taken at least a week to construct the shaft, and the forensics team said the evidence pointed to the excavation having been done within the past month. The elaborate preparations were yet another bit of evidence arguing for the Mansfelds' involvement.</p><p>Agent Lindsay had called the owner of the warehouse to find out who leased it, but Jones wasn't optimistic. Whoever planned this wouldn't have used their real identity.</p><p>
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</p><p>Peter came to slowly and painfully. He lay still a moment, all too familiar with the painful band compressing his chest. Thinking optimistically, he probably only had a cracked rib. The back of his neck felt sticky, and his back was letting him know that any movement would be regretted immediately. He heard someone else breathing. Damn, it was cold. "Neal?"</p><p>"Peter?" The sound of Neal's anxious voice was a relief. "Thank god. Don't try to move," he added, clamping a hand onto his shoulder.</p><p>Peter pried open an eye. It didn't help. Near total darkness. He was lying on something hard. "Injuries?"</p><p>"Nothing worth mentioning. You cushioned my fall. I tried not to land on you but there wasn't enough time to adjust the angle."</p><p>Peter waved a hand, not that Neal would be able to see it. "Glad I could be of use."</p><p>"You've got a gash at the back of your neck, but it doesn't appear to be very deep. Any broken bones?"</p><p>Peter's initial instinct was not to mention anything, but after all the lectures he'd given Neal, he couldn't. "Arms and legs seem okay. Ribs could use with a checkup. My back's felt better. Did you stay conscious?"</p><p>"A little longer than you. There were several people in the tunnel. I think you'd already passed out when they approached. They wore hoods. Two of them were men. Don't know about the others. One of them gave me a shot, and the next thing I knew I woke up in this scenic shaft."</p><p>"An elevator shaft?" Peter's head pounded, making thinking difficult. Why did they go to all the work of moving them when they could have simply killed them or left them tied them up?</p><p>"Yeah, we're lying on top of a cab. It appears to be a modern construction. The building probably is as well."</p><p>"Meaning no escape hatch into the elevator car?"</p><p>"No such luck."</p><p>Modern elevator cars weren't designed with escape hatches in the roof. There was a good reason for that. It was far more dangerous to be on top of the car than inside where eventually you could be rescued. "I don't suppose you found our watches lying about?" He'd already missed the comfortable solidity of the metal band around his wrist.</p><p>"No, and our cell phones are gone too."</p><p>Neal was keeping his tone light and cheerful, although he had to be aware of the gravity of the situation. Gravity . . . damn, why hadn't Peter picked another word? How long had they been unconscious? Would someone try to use the elevator? Peter choked back the fear and tried to keep his tone equally light. "Good thing, you're an escape artist. What brilliant plan have you concocted?"</p><p>"Glad you asked." Neal was keeping a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. It was also a reminder that Peter shouldn't try to sit up. "You've called me a spider monkey. It's time to put that skill to use."</p><p>Peter swallowed. "You're going to climb the cable?"</p><p>"That won't work. The steel rope is coated with lubricant, and I wouldn't be able to get much of a grip."</p><p>"Not to mention that your hands would be sliced to ribbons."</p><p>"That too. What was I thinking to have left my climbing gloves behind?" Peter could sense Neal's grin even though he couldn't see it. "Fortunately for us, there are horizontal struts along the shaft. I should be able to use them to climb to a door. Our abductors probably used a remote control to lower the elevator cab so that we could be dumped onto its roof. There are often emergency switches inside the shaft to override door locks. If this is a modern building as we suspect, I'm sure they would have included all the emergency measures."</p><p>"If the cab is close to the door, you may not need to climb," Peter suggested hopefully.</p><p>"That would have been generous of them, but I already checked, and we're between floors. If the first doors I come to don't have a switch, the odds will be even better for the next one."</p><p>Neal's reassuring words did nothing to temper Peter's growing unease. "Have you ever done this before?"</p><p>"No, but Mozzie and I discussed possible methods once over Chinese takeout and a bottle of Chardonnay."</p><p>"You're not sure there are emergency switches, are you?"</p><p>"Positive thinking, Peter," Neal chided gently. "This will work. For once, I don't think you'll argue that I'm the one who has to do it. Do you want to try to sit up? You have to be able to hold onto the cable before I'll leave."</p><p>"Sure. The pain isn't that severe." Okay, a lie, but a necessary one.</p><p>"I already know you're tough," Neal said softly. "But I'm no lightweight. I must have done a number to your back when we fell."</p><p>"Nothing for you to worry about," Peter dismissed. That at least was true. Neal placed his arms under Peter's armpits and slowly lifted him to a sitting position. Peter was able to stifle the groans but not the sweat breaking out on his face. Just a pulled muscle, that's all it was. A heating pad would work wonders.</p><p>"You're sure you'll be able to hold on?" Neal asked, worry coloring his voice.</p><p>"Not a problem," Peter asserted quickly, but damn, the cable was slick. There was no way Neal would be able to climb it. He heard Neal strip off his jacket. "What are you doing?" Peter demanded. "You need that jacket—both for warmth and protection."</p><p>"But not the jersey underneath. This is an old Henley. I'm sacrificing it for a good cause." He yanked at the fabric till Peter heard it give way then he began ripping it.</p><p>"Put your jacket on while you work," Peter grumbled even as he was grateful for Neal's idea. "You'll catch a chill."</p><p>"No, I won't." But he slipped the jacket back on. He grasped Peter's arm. "Once I've wrapped your hands, you'll be able to maintain a better grip."</p><p>"Let me do yours first."</p><p>He hesitated. "I'll need my fingers free, but the cloth could help protect my palms."</p><p>"I've gotta make myself useful in some way."</p><p>Neal snorted. "If you hadn't cushioned my fall, I might not be able to attempt this. And nothing I can do will make me feel less guilty about injuring you."</p><p>Peter knew better than to try to talk him out of his misery. He would have felt the same if their positions had been reversed. But Neal wasn't the only one to feel guilty. "You wanted to leave the office as soon as we arrived," Peter said, as he carefully wrapped the cloth around Neal's palms. "You realized it was a trap?"</p><p>"Yeah, the way the door was insulated was a signal."</p><p>"I should have followed your lead," Peter admitted remorsefully.</p><p>"Don't think about that," Neal insisted. "They probably wouldn't have let us anyway."</p><p>Peter didn't contradict him, but he now understood why Neal had wanted to go in alone. If he'd immediately turned on his heels, the others might have been surprised enough to let him make his escape. Agents could have swarmed in, seizing both the perps and the map.</p><p>"That hot tub's going to feel so good," Neal said. "Your brother was a genius to install one at the cabin. This may be the first Messier Marathon to be conducted from one."</p><p>Peter started to chuckle then quickly stopped. He wished his breathing weren't as raspy. He knew Neal was hearing it. "I call this sting a success," he declared. "We may not have gotten the map, but this bizarre treatment is convincing proof that Rolf and Cthulhu are behind it."</p><p>Neal gave a soft snort. "We took one for the team. Next time, we'll let someone else have the glory."</p><p>
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</p><p>That discussion with Mozzie had only briefly touched on elevators, but Peter needed a healthy dose of optimism. There wasn't much else Neal could do for him. Surely engineers had made allowances for someone stuck inside an elevator shaft.</p><p>But as Neal moved toward the wall, he was forced to conclude they could have done a better job. Why wasn't there a provision for emergency lighting? If he needed to jump off the car to grab a strut, the force could trip a mechanism directing the cab to speed to the lobby. That was the default emergency override engineered into the electronics. For one panic-stricken moment, Neal pictured the car plummeting to the ground with Peter a helpless victim. Not helpful. Swallowing down the bile, he refocused on the task at hand.</p><p>Neal felt along the wall. He exhaled in relief at finding a strut he could reach by standing on his tiptoes. "You okay?" he asked once he was free of the cab and clinging to the brace.</p><p>"I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Are you able to climb?"</p><p>"Piece of cake, Peter." But not the kind he enjoyed eating. He couldn't see the struts so he had to grope for a hold. Despite the cold, his hands were soon coated with sweat, and he had to pause frequently to wipe first one then the other on his jeans.</p><p>"I'm up the door level," he called down. "I only had to climb about six feet."</p><p>"Find any switch?"</p><p>"Not yet." Clinging to the struts with his right hand, he felt all around the door. <em>Slow and methodical, don't rush or you'll miss it.</em></p><p>But by the time he'd reached the top of the door, the switch remained an elusive unicorn.</p><p>Neal paused to take a breath. Descending the shaft would be harder than climbing it. "I'm going to need to check the other side," he called out. "Don't be concerned when you hear some thuds. I'm taking off my shoes."</p><p>"Your hands are okay?"</p><p>"They're fine, Peter. Focus on holding onto the cable." Neal toed off first his shoes then his socks. His loafers were probably wrecked anyway, but they'd been a favorite pair. Damn.</p><p>But it was worth the sacrifice. The strategy worked. He was able to cling to the struts with his toes as he worked his way downward. Once his feet were level with the bottom of the door, he needed to inch across the doors which offered precious little in the way of support. Prying them open was a non-starter. He couldn't even insert his little finger between them.</p><p>Doubts grew louder, demanding his attention. What if there was no switch? Could he manage to climb his way up to the machine room at the top?</p><p>Of course, he could. He'd have no choice.</p><p>Assuming, that is, his left arm held out. He'd wrenched a shoulder when he attempted to avoid landing on Peter, and it was becoming treacherous. At the worst, he'd fall onto the car. Not necessarily a disaster. Unless the impact tossed the car into emergency mode . . .</p><p>When his fingers touched a small panel, he exhaled in relief, not caring how loud it was. "I found the switch!" he yelled. "You still okay?"</p><p>"Don't think about me. Does it work?"</p><p>"I'm toggling it now." The mechanism took a little force to operate but then came the welcome hiss of a door sliding back. Only one door opened, allowing him to snake across the closed panel. Trust a building at MIT to be well engineered.</p><p>After the darkness of the shaft, the light in the corridor was blindingly bright. Neal collapsed into a heap on the floor. A maintenance worker was mopping the hallway a few paces down. She let out a scream when she saw him. He could have kissed her.</p><p>
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</p><p>El received the good news from Jones around three o'clock in the morning. He told her that it hadn't taken long to extricate Peter from his perch. A security guard worked with Neal to maneuver the elevator so that by the time Jones and Travis showed up, Peter was already in the hallway.</p><p>The gash in Peter's neck required a few stitches. He'd cracked two ribs and suffered a deep bruise to his back. The assorted aches and pains were nothing debilitating he claimed, but El was already braced for the discolorations. Neal had an inflamed shoulder and assorted muscle strains. Neither one of them would be doing any heavy lifting for a while.</p><p>The site of their ordeal was Green Hall. The eighteen-floor building was the tallest on the MIT campus. The car the men had been deposited on top of was between the tenth and eleventh floors. Peter was already grumbling about the failed mission. The criminals had evidently all escaped through the tunnel. The map was nowhere to be found. But from El's perspective, she wasn't about to complain.</p><p>She'd been prepared to travel to Boston, but Jones was renting a van to bring them back home. The men would be released from the hospital midmorning and home by late afternoon.</p><p>El twined her fingers in Satchmo's fur. The Lab had been her companion through the long hours. Now that the fear was wearing off, resentment was settling in. "How many nights have we done this?" she complained aloud even though only Satchmo could hear her. "The agents in the house. The monitoring equipment installed on the dining room table. The agonizing wait for news."</p><p>Satchmo whined sympathetically, putting a paw on her foot.</p><p>"What's that you say? You deserve a treat after the ordeal? Excellent suggestion! So do I. This is a moment for some of that date coconut coffee cake that's been calling to me, and there's a fresh bag of doggie delights with your name on it."</p><p>She refreshed her cup of tea. She'd contacted Yvonne the previous evening who volunteered to handle the business appointments. El hoped she'd be able to get some sleep so that by the time Peter returned, she'd be over the grumps and would be supportive once more.</p><p>She curled up on the couch with her plate and patted the cushion for Satchmo to sit next to her. "Are we being irresponsible to even think about starting a family?" she asked him.</p><p>He cocked his head, looking as uncertain as she felt.</p><p>"FBI agents are no different from firefighters, the military, the police, and many other professions. Couples still have kids. We should be able to as well."</p><p>That's what she'd been telling herself, but she also knew that she didn't want to be a single mom. It wasn't just the baby who needed two parents. She needed a partner who was fully engaged. Years ago, when they'd decided to postpone a family, Peter had said his work would eventually become more supervisory in nature. From her vantage point, she didn't see any signs of it.</p><p>She rested her chin on his head. "What am I going to do, Satch? I don't want to be a nag."</p><p>He nuzzled her, rubbing his head against her chin.</p><p>"You're right, of course. I won't say a word. On this, I'll let Peter take the lead."</p><p>
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</p><p>Henry was already at June's by the time Neal got home. "Just think of me as your butler," Henry said airily, greeting him at the door and taking his bag from Travis.</p><p>"Don't let him tell you he's fine," Travis said. "He already conned the doctor out of wearing a sling. These are his meds. Make sure he takes them."</p><p> Neal rolled his eyes. "I'm not an invalid, but thanks for the help."</p><p>"I leave you in Henry's capable hands," Travis said. "We're double-parked."</p><p>"Where's June?" Neal asked as he and Henry headed upstairs.</p><p>"She had a board meeting of the Harlem Jazz Museum to attend, and I told her it would be easier for me to boss you around."</p><p>While Henry unpacked his travel bag, Neal gave him an update. He'd already provided the initial details from the hospital.</p><p>"I spoke with Tricia earlier today," Henry said. "After what happened, we can safely remove the hypothetical in front of the partner's name. At this point, Cthulhu is a much greater threat than Azathoth."</p><p>"Any ideas on how they're communicating?" Neal asked from his place on the couch. Despite his disclaimer, he was glad to relax and be waited upon. He'd strained some of the muscles in his feet during the climb, and his pups enjoyed being off the floor.</p><p>"It could be his lawyer or perhaps a prison guard. There's not enough evidence to obtain a court order for monitoring communications. At least not yet. I'd wondered if this was Rolf's version of an early April Fools' Day prank. He could have discovered your team's fencing schedule. When was it published?"</p><p>"In September, well before he was arrested. He could have made the initial plans before I was kidnapped."</p><p>Henry nodded as if that was what he'd expected to hear. "Rolf's a former professor of mathematics and computer science. I checked the records. Eight years ago he was a guest lecturer for one semester at MIT. He'd be familiar with their famous hacks."</p><p>"Do you think he intended to cast suspicion on MIT? At first, Agent Lindsay was ready to believe the theft had been a student hack."</p><p>Henry dropped onto the side chair next to the couch. "Possibly, but it's more likely he intended to muddy the sea monster waters." At Neal's groan, he grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." His face grew serious. "The connections to Rolf are too many to be a coincidence. Rolf has studied not only you but Richard and Aidan as well. Last year when he attended the sci-fi convention in the guise of Alistair Chapman, he met all of you. He knows about Richard's interest in horror and his work at Scima. He could have predicted you'd attend the exhibition."</p><p>Neal nodded. Henry's belief was a confirmation of what he'd already suspected. "And both Mansfelds know about my interest in origami. Does Tricia think that the squid left at the museum was meant for me?"</p><p>"Yeah," Henry said quietly. "Perhaps Rolf intended to mock your expertise. You didn't see any monsters in the shaft, did you?"</p><p>Neal rolled his eyes. "A kraken rising to the surface from the depths of the ocean? It could have been hiding underneath the elevator car, but I didn't catch any whiff of seaweed."</p><p>"Seaweed  . . . I wouldn't be so sure," Henry said thoughtfully.</p><p>Neal stared at him. "What are you talking about?"</p><p>"Those hoods the goons were wearing. Why green? I've been trying to puzzle that one out." Henry frowned. "They could have been meant to represent seaweed or even tentacles I suppose." He shrugged. "Or maybe Cthulhu simply wanted to mess with our minds."</p><p>Neal hadn't considered their significance of the hoods. If there was a message, it wasn't an obvious one.</p><p>"Don't hassle your head about it," Henry advised. "That's why you have me on the case. Have you been having any nightmares about squids or octopuses? Krakens rising from the depths?"</p><p>"Haven't had much time to sleep," Neal dismissed, automatically deflecting.</p><p>Henry snapped a sharp glance at him. "How about in general?"</p><p>Neal exhaled. "Not a nightmare. More like frustration. Peter had no business accompanying me. I should have gone in alone. We shouldn't have been captured." He winced. "Team efforts aren't always the best solution."</p><p>"I hear ya. Did you try to call an audible?"</p><p>Neal nodded. "And he didn't pick up on it. In Peter's defense, Jones probably wouldn't have either."</p><p>"After this, it may not be so difficult to talk him out of it."</p><p>"I hope that's the case." Neal swung his legs off the couch and sat up. "It was a narrow escape. After Peter was safe, I asked the security guard about the elevator protocols used in the building. It was programmed to go to the ground floor if any malfunction was detected. Peter wouldn't have been able to maintain a grip." He didn't need to finish the thought. This was one hack that could have easily turned deadly.</p><p>"Last year once we discovered the Mansfelds' desire to recruit you, we knew there was less chance of physical harm," Henry said. "That's no longer the case. Tricia continues to feel that he'll want to torment you first, but I wouldn't count on it."</p><p>Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and a minute later Mozzie walked in, carrying two bottles of wine. "I assumed your supply of my health-inducing honey wine was running low, mon frère. With Cthulhu churning in the ocean, it's time to restock."</p><p>Neal checked his watch. "The meds the hospital gave me have worn off."</p><p>"Good. We should all drink a toast," Mozzie said and headed to the kitchenette.</p><p>"Surely not to Cthulhu?" Henry scoffed.</p><p>Mozzie shook his head. "No, to Steinar Wolff. May he rest in peace."</p><p>"What happened?" Neal asked, startled.</p><p>Mozzie shrugged. "You know all cons have an expiration date. His just passed. Steinar's been made. His ID handle on the dark web was exposed as a Bureau trap."</p><p>"How about yours?" Neal asked.</p><p>"Fortunately, I don't need to burn mine, but the one Jones was using has also been excommunicated." Mozzie tapped his nose. "It's time for a new game plan."</p><p>
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</p><p>Peter took the news about the Steinar Wolff ID being made in stride. Neal suspected he was secretly glad to retire an alias he'd never been comfortable with.</p><p>The case still rankled. There were no leads on the whereabouts of the map and no trace of the abductors. When news broke later in the week that Erasmus Penfold had escaped from a holding facility in Budapest, Neal figured it was yet another instance in their run of bad luck.</p><p>Peter was worried about how Neal would react to the news that the doctor who'd subjected Neal to a mind control program was once more on the loose, but he was determined to not waste time stressing about it. He'd recovered completely from the procedure. Penfold's employers were either dead or in prison. Neal's therapist, Jacob Nussbaum, suspected that Penfold would head for Russia where virtual-reality mind control techniques were actively being researched.</p><p>By the time the weekend rolled around, Neal was ready for a break from anything related to the Mansfelds. They arrived at the cabin midday on Saturday, pumped for the Messier Marathon.</p><p>The weather by Catskills' standards was unusually mild. Peter would probably complain of the heat while Neal would only have to wear two extra pairs of socks. El had brought stacks of blankets along. They had enough coffee to stay awake throughout the night with ample cookies for dunking. The sugar cookies had been a project for the afternoon. El had baked them at home. Once they arrived at the cabin, the three of them spent the afternoon decorating them with the constellations. Even Peter painted stick figures with the icing tube.</p><p>Their base of operations for the marathon was a short walk from the cabin. They took their places as soon as dusk fell. Peter was ecstatic over scoring the first two objects—the galaxies M74 and M77—in the first minutes of viewing. They were celebrating their victory with coffee laced with just a little Irish whiskey and cookies during the break before the next objects were set to appear.</p><p>"Any April Fool pranksters among the constellations?" Neal asked.</p><p>Peter smiled. "No, and you'll also be happy to hear that there are no krakens or other tentacle creatures."</p><p>"But there is a crown," El said. "Should we call it the Tudor Crown just for tonight?"</p><p>"Mozzie would like that," Neal said. "He and Janet decided to join Richard and Travis at the astronomy club's observatory in Jenny Jump State Park." He hoped Sara would be along next year for what Neal sensed could easily become an annual event.</p><p>"Did Mozzie's research into Joseph Bassus result in anything?" Peter asked.</p><p>"No, it was a dead end. Now he's muttering about tunnels once more."</p><p>"The tunnels at Columbia?"</p><p>"I'm not sure," Neal admitted. "He's been very vague as if he's worried spies might overhear. Although, honestly, what spies could there be? Agents of Cromwell? I try not to think about it."</p><p>"And now we don't have to be concerned about Steinar Wolff either," Peter said, slanting a smile at El.</p><p>Her return smile was a bit tenuous. "You're sure you don't mind?"</p><p>"In a way, it's a relief," Peter admitted. "Hughes never liked the idea."</p><p>"Steinar had several notable successes," Neal said, emphasizing the positives. "He's leaving on a high note. Thanks to Steinar, we have a much better idea of who we're up against. We'll adjust our strategy and be better prepared next time." Neal knew it was a bitter pill for Peter that they hadn't been able to retrieve the map. "The <em>Carta Marina</em> will provide the evidence to imprison Cthulhu back in a fortress," he predicted. "But this time it will be a U.S. prison."</p><p>"I like the sound of that," Peter said. He raised his mug. "Here's to Steinar Wolff! I'm setting him free to roam the stars."</p><p>They all raised their mugs to Peter's ex-alias, and no one was happier about it than Neal.  Keeping Peter safe would be much easier if he returned to a supervisory role. It was up to the team to make sure no cephalopods of any kind got to him.</p><p>"Look," El said. "Peter's constellation is coming up over the horizon." She smiled at her husband. "That's an auspicious start to our marathon."</p><p>Neal could just make out the tip of the baseball bat which made up Bootes. "And El's constellation of the Mama Bear is already soaring high in the sky." On their first stargazing weekend over a year ago, Peter had joked about his baseball bat would keep El and Neal safe. "In case anyone forgot, I have dibs on Perseus, holding the head of Medusa."</p><p>Peter smiled. "You probably think I'm going to josh you about Baby Bear being your constellation, but you'll be relieved to know that Ursa Minor is reserved for someone else."</p><p>Neal almost spilled his coffee in his excitement. "Are you telling me what I think you are?"</p><p>El reached out and clasped Peter's hand. "We hope this is the year Baby Burke will become a reality."</p><p>"Congratulations! Listen, if you want to take a break and move inside, I'll keep watch for you."</p><p>"Sorry kid, but this marathon is setting too important an omen for next year." He smiled at El. "We'll have plenty of opportunities for romance later."</p><p>By this time next year, El would hopefully be pregnant. Perhaps Baby Burke would have already arrived. El cautioned that they were keeping their plans confidential, and Neal agreed not to spill the Burke beans before they were ready, but the stakes had just gotten higher to ensure that Azathoth and Cthulhu didn't spoil the family's future.</p><p> </p>
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  <em>Notes: Thanks for reading! Neal's adventures continue without a break in my next story, Cheekbones Caffrey. In it, he and Peter won't have to worry about Azathoth and Cthulhu. Instead trouble comes from a demonic direction. If you've read Voodoo Remoulade, you may recall that the demon Crowley, who is currently possessing Curtis Hagen, was about to implement a scheme which could have profound repercussions for Henry's company, Win-Win. That's the subject of Cheekbones Caffrey. For those of you who haven't been reading my Crossed Lines series but would like to read the story, I've written an introduction for the blog. The title of the post is "<a href="https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/2020/09/destination-cheekbones-caffrey.html">Destination: Cheekbones Caffrey</a>." </em>
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  <em>Story Visuals: The Attack of the Kraken board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website: <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/caffreycon">pinterest.com/caffreycon</a></em><br/>
<em>Blog: Penna Nomen &amp; Silbrith Conversation: <a href="http://www.pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com">pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com</a></em><br/>
<em>Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/silbrith">@silbrith</a></em>
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